South Park Institute for Mental Health
by rosegirl220
Summary: Butters Stotch is in a Insane Asylum for a crime he doesn't even remember committing, and on top of crippling confusion of his situation, he must now also learn to live along side the others in the asylum. Based of an AU me and my friends made. Contains: Style, Damophe, and hits of Bunny/Bratters, and many other couples in later chapters. Rated T for safety - for now.
1. Arrival

"We're here, prisoner."

The sudden voice makes the blond's head look up from the bus floor, and he sees that the bus was quickly approaching a red-bricked building just on the horizon.

The blonde's name was Butters, and he felt anxiety nip at the very core of his soul.

Not only had this been the first time he'd ever been in actual trouble where the law had to get involved, but the most confusing part for him personally was that he had no recollection of doing what everyone seemed to be accusing him of doing. Sure, he was never one to rock the boat or complain about how things worked out, but for some reason, deep down, he felt like all of this was a mistake - like he shouldn't be the one in trouble…

The blonde's inner-conflict comes to a halt as the bus comes to a slow, bumpy stop.

Butters then spots two figures in unidentifiable uniforms approach the bus from the building once it came to a full stop. The blonde was then brought to his feet by the policemen on the bus, and was brought to the door; the figures becoming clearer as the doors swung open.

He guessed they were security guards.

To his partial relief, he gathered pretty quickly that neither of them were actually officers of the law.

Both of their uniforms were a beige color instead of blue, and the patches on their sleeves read: **South Park Institute for Mental Health **in bold, red letters. As for the guards themselves, Butters took notice that, while both shared the same raven-black hair and looked somewhere in their mid to late twenties, the guard on the left was not only shorter but had a more rounded, almost child-like facial structure than the man standing next to him on his right.

The blonde briefly wondered if they could be related, but was interrupted by the police officer who brought him to the door forcibly leading him down the bus steps.

"Here's your new patient; Leopold Butters Stotch." The officer says in a monotone voice once they step onto the ground; taking out a key from his pocket, and unlocking the handcuffs on Butters wrists. "He's court ordered to be monitored at all times when not in his cell, and that-"

"No disrespect officer," The taller guard suddenly interjects as he steps forward to gently take Butters right arm while the shorter took his left. "But I've already been informed of the procedures, and proper accommodations have been made. I was the one you told them to over the phone yesterday, actually, so thank you for transporting him here promptly. We can take him from here."

The officer seemed a bit caught off by this, but nodded in response nonetheless.

After the man had retreated to the bus and it began to roll off down the road, Stan let out a scoff. "That guy's unbelievable. Always talking to me like I don't know how to do my job." The raven haired male just shook his head in disbelief before he and the shorter guard begin to walk Butters up the stretch of concrete that lead to the entrance. "You know Butters… I think you're the first patient I actually walked in here."

"...I am?" Butter asks in confusion; it being the first time he spoke during his whole trip there.

"All he means you're the first one whose been able to physically move their legs to get to the door when first arriving here." The shorter explained. "Usually the criminally insane patients that are sent here are too drugged up to even form a coherent sentence; let alone walk."

"I see." The blonde mutters out. "But… what did you mean by the criminally insane part?"

"Well, the fact of the matter is, South Park simply isn't that big of a place." Stan replies. "That means they don't have a lot of funding to pay for places like this; let alone get two buildings for, in the mayor's opinion, the same basic thing. So, because of this, we get both criminally insane people sent here as well as just mentally unstable patients."

"But… wouldn't that be dangerous?"

"Maybe, but we seem to be keeping things under control here." Stan says with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. He then took a short pause before saying, "Oh, and by the way, I have to give you this Institution-required speech when we get to your room, so please bare with me on that."

Butters merely nods at this, and moments after he does, they reach the entrance.

The automatic doors swing open, and when the three enter, the blonde is momentarily blinded by a sea of sterile, shining white.

Once he regained sight, he saw that, indeed, the entire entrance area of the Institution was a snow-like white. Everything from the walls to the tiled floor was this color with no deviation. That is, of course, excluding the brown-colored secretaries desk that sat in the middle of the room like the first stroke of paint on a blank canvas - no one actually sitting there at the moment, however.

The blonde briefly wondered how people could stand such intense whiteness for twenty-four hours a day, everyday.

The two guards then escort the blonde through the, what he presumed to be, check-in area, and lead him through oak double-doors that were partially hidden behind the front desk. On the other side of them was a long, white colored hallway lays before them. The two then walk Butters halfway down the hall before coming to a cross-point - the left-sided doorway having a red square on the top of it and the right-sided doorway having a blue square on the top of it.

The guards lead the blonde through the doorway with the red square.

Past the door, Butters sees a grey hallway with rooms lining both sides. It wasn't until the third or fourth (the blonde honestly wasn't keeping that good a count of the numbers) door that they stop, and the taller guard pulls out a key before opening up the door.

The inside was a muted grey color with no windows, and a single bed set in the right corner with one green sheet plus a set of light-green clothes set on it.

"This is your room." The taller said. "Step inside, and face us."

The blonde quickly does as he says, and once he had turned to face the two once more, the taller begins the speech he had briefly mentioned earlier.

"Butters, let me be the first to welcome you to South Park's Institute of Mental Health. I am officer Stanley Marsh, and this is my fell day-hours officer, Kevin Stooley." Stan says as he gestures over to the shorter. "We are here to not only keep _you_ safe, but to keep _all _residents here safe as well. This means that if you try to harm yourself or another patient, we will be forced to take action. First offense is a twenty-four hour lockdown in your room, next is a week of solitary confinement in the padded cell at the end of the hall with a straight jacket, and lastly, your third leads to an automatic discharge from our facility - which, since your court ordered to be here, would mean you'd be sent off to prison. However, if you follow the rules we have in place here, they'll be nothing to fear. As for your clothing, you'll be required to change into the patient uniform on the bed behind you, and hand over all and any personal possessions to us."

Kevin then waited for just a moment to make sure Stan didn't have anything else to add, and then speaks as well. "You'll also be seeing the therapist here for a second evaluation this evening, but before we go notify him you're here, we're requiring you remove your shoelaces , any belts on your person, and all other items you can potentially harm yourself with."

Butters was about to ask why this was, but the meaning what Kevin said finally registered in his brain, and he did what he said without question.

After a few moments, the blonde had slipped out his shoelaces, and taken off his belt. He then obediently hands them over to the waiting guards, and they give a slight nod once they take them before exiting his room - the door shutting and locking automatically with a noticeable _click_. Once they left, blonde then lets out a heavy sigh before trudging over, and changing into the clothes waiting for him on his bed.

The garments themselves reminded him faintly of scrubs a doctor or nurse, and the shoes they provided looked strikingly similar to ordinary house shoes.

Once he had them on, they proved to be quite uncomfortable.

While the material looked silky, the fabric actually turned out to be very rough, and the shoes fit uncomfortably tight on the blonde's feet. Although, he subconsciously knew there'd be no point in complaining about having to wear the uniform, so he just sat down on the edge of the bed with his street-clothes and shoes folded up nice and neat in his lap, and began waiting.

It wasn't but a few minutes later that Stan and Kevin opened his door once more.

"Alright, the doctor's ready for you." The taller informed.

The blonde nods and quickly stands before the two waiting guards take him gently by the arms - Stan taking the items in Butters hands and holding them to his side as they walked. The three head out of the room, walk back into the hall he had came down to get there, and continue down the opposite direction of the front area.

At the end of the hallway, they come to another cross-section of the hall, and turn right - the three coming face-to-face with another oak door.

"Inside is where you'll be having your second assessment." Kevin explains. "You will be going in alone for doctor-patient confidentiality reasons, but make no mistake, we'll both be right out here in case something goes wrong." Butters couldn't help but guess that was code for "in case you snap", but decided not to call him on it because he was pretty sure of the answer.

The blond then walks over to the door, and ignores the stares from Kevin and Stan as he slowly reaches out to the doorknob and turning it.

The room Butters saw was, thankfully, not painted that blinding white like most of the building was.

It's walls were painted a muted tan color, and was accented rather nicely with a light-red carpet. As for the actual furniture, there was a desk with tons of books and other miscellaneous items stacked on it in the back corner, and in the foreground of the room were two identical padded chairs - one of which held a redheaded man, who looked to be either in his late teens or early twenties, as he went over charts on a clipboard.

Butters stays in the doorway, wondering if he should make small noise to have his presence known to the other, but finds it unnecessary when the other suddenly looks up and notices him.

"Ah, you must be our new patient; Butters Stotch." The redhead says with a polite smile as the blonde continues to linger uncomfortably in the doorway. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Kyle Broflovski, one of the leading therapists here. Please, come in, shut the door, and have a seat in the chair next to mine."

Butters quickly does as he's told, and once he's seated, Kyle speaks once more.

"So, I see here on your chart that you were able to be sent here without having to be sedated first." The redhead observes as he briefly looks to the chart in his hands before looking to Butters. "That must've been nice; to be brought here while still coherent."

"I-It was, sir." The blonde says just above a whisper, looking down submissively.

Kyle smiles slightly at this before saying, "Y'know Butters, you don't have to be so nervous around me. I'm here to provide a safe, comfortable environment for patients to heal in. Now, I'm just going to ask a few questions to determine if you're eligible to participate in our next group therapy session, so please feel free to make yourself comfortable." The redhead then gives a short pause as Butters shifts slightly in his seat, and after a moment, readies his pen to start writing. "Alright, let's start off with a simple one: Do you know your full, legal name? If so, please state it in it's entirety."

"Yes, and it's Leopold Butters Stotch."

Kyle then quickly scribbles something down on the paper clipped to his clipboard before talking once more. The next few minutes were then spent asking simple questions, like "Do you remember your date of birth?" and "Have you ever been in a facility like this before?", but then the redhead goes into more of a complicated area of questions.

"Do you recall the events that lead to your being here?"

The blonde hesitates a moment, and after several minutes of serious consideration, gives his answer. "...I truly don't."

"Oh?" Kyle asks; interest clear in his voice as he scribbles something down on his paper once more. "You say you don't remember anything about what had happened?"

"No sir."

"Interesting." Kyle says as he leans forward slightly with his hands folded. "Do you have any idea why it's blocked from your memory then? Have you not mentally come to terms with what you've done, perhaps?"

"To be honest...I have no idea." Butters admits. "That whole day's kind of a blank, actually."

"So you can't remember the day you were arrested at all?"

"No, no, I can remember that part of it just fine, but...I just can't remember doing what I was accused of..."

"I see. Well, believe it or not, that's actually common." Kyle reassures. "I often find the best solution for this type of selective amnesia of sorts is to recall the event and talk about it out loud. Please, tell me all of what you do remember, and feel free to stop at your choosing."

The blonde took in a deep breath before starting his story. "Well...the first thing I remember about that day is waking up spread out on the ground of my apartment floor. I remember having this splitting headache the more I came into consciousness, and it would only get worse every time I tried to get up. Of course, when I finally did manage to get on my feet after what seemed like years, I noticed two things: I was covered in what I later discovered was blood, and was clutching a baseball bat that was coated in the red liquid as well. Although, before I had any real time to process what was going on, these policemen suddenly kicked in my door, and slapped handcuffs on me - saying I was under arrest for...for _murder_."

"Murder?" Kyle asks; looking slightly surprised that had been the others answer. "That's a pretty serious accusation. If you don't mind me asking, did they tell you who?"

"It's fine, and yes, they did." Butters responded with a small nod. "The person who they say I had murdered was….was..." The blonde then felt a rise of anxiety come over him, and he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. The shorter then closed his eyes tight and clenched his fists before saying the word that he hadn't dared utter since arrest. "...m-my mother."

Several minutes of silence pass after those words left Butters mouth, and while Kyle's expression held no judgment, the blonde was almost positive the other thought he was now a horrible, unruly person.

"...I-I…..I don't even remember doing it. I-I honestly don't" Butters admits; tear suddenly forming in his baby-blue eyes. "The last time I remember speaking with her, she and my father were on vacation somewhere in Chicago, and just the thought….that I had hurt her…." The blonde was then cut off by a sudden catch in his throat, and he quickly clears it before saying through slight tears, "S-Sorry I'm cryin' like this...I-I know I'm supposed to be talkin'...

"It's fine, Butters, really." Kyle responds; his expression and voice being as professional as he can make them. "This kind of reaction is good. Raw emotions like the one you're feeling sometimes help to unlock stored away memories, and allow you to recall previously repressed events. Also, I have some tissues on my desk if you are in need of them."

"Thanks, but...I-I'm fine. Honestly." Butters says as he wipes tears that had slipped out onto his cheeks; waiting till he fully regained his composure till he spoke again. "As for the rest of my story…there's really nothing much else to tell. I was taken to court with my case, my lawyer argued I was unqualified for jail because I must have some sort of mental illness not to recall doing such a horrific act, and the judge sentenced me to come here until my illness had been discovered and properly treated. And..that's pretty much it."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then." Kyle says as he writes down the last of the information Butters had given him before looking back up at him. "Thank you for finding the strength to share that with me, Butters. And I still need to do some reviews of these notes I took, but from I can tell, I believe you'll be eligible for group therapy tomorrow."

"R-Really?" The blonde asks in a bit of surprise. "W-Well...thank you so much, doctor."

"No problem. Now, if you'll just step outside, the guards will escort you back to your room."

The blonde then gives a nod, and stands before making his way to the door. When he steps back through, he sees that the guards had yet to move from the spot they had gotten into when the group had first arrived (although, he noticed Stan was no longer held the items he had handed over earlier, so he assumed that at least the taller moved while he was talking to Kyle), and in seconds, had Butters by the arms once more.

"So, what'd Kyle say about you going to group therapy?" Stan casually asks as they begin the walk back to the others room.

"He said he still had to review some things, but I'd probably be able to attend it tomorrow."

"That's wonderful, Butters." Kevin says with a wide smile. "Usually criminally insane patients don't get to go to group therapy when they first arrive here. It sometimes takes months, in some cases years, before their mentally stable enough to participate." This fact alone makes Butters mouth curl upward into the smallest of smiles, and he was about to say something when Stan suddenly speaks up.

"Kenny, what are you doing out here? Don't you have a therapy session today?"

The blonde then looks straight ahead, and in the middle of the hall, he sees...a boy about his age with nearly lemon-yellow hair standing statue-still just mere feet from where the three were. Of course, the thing that drew the most attention was dark-rimmed, emotionless sea-blue eyes that seemed to just peer into the very soul of the person or thing they looked at; which, in this case, happened to be Butters.

The shorter felt a chill run up his spine when looking into them, but did his best to ignore it.

"Um...h-hi there." Butters speaks up sheepishly. "My name is Butters, and I-I guess I'm the new guy. It's nice to meet you...Kenny, was it?"

The blonde waited for the other to respond, but got nothing.

Just the same blank, frozen-seeming stare.

"Don't feel bad, Butters, he's always like this." Stan speaks up. "I'm not entirely sure of all the details, but all I do know is that he normally refuses to talk to anyone but the therapists here. The rest of us just get a blank stare." The guard then paused for a brief moment, as if remembering something, before looking to the shorter black-haired male. "Kevin, take Butters back to his room. I need to get Kenny down to Kyle's for his session." The raven-haired male then walks over to the lingering other, and puts a calming hand on his shoulder.

The other then began to talk in a calming tone to the other, but before Butters could really make-out what Stan was saying, him and Kevin had stepped through the red-squared doorway.

"...do you think he'll be okay? The boy who just stared at me, I mean."

"Kenny? Oh, I'm sure he'll get better eventually." Kevin reassured. "After all, that's why people like Kyle are here; to help him get better. I wouldn't let it worry you too much."

The blonde wanted to ask more, like what exactly what Kenny's condition was, but by the time he finally decided he was going to ask, they had arrived at his cell. Kevin then unlocked and opened the door, and Butters obediently goes in - the door closing behind him with the same _click_ as soon as he had fully entered.

It was at that moment the true gravity of his situation hit Butters.

Sure, he'd been alone for awhile once or twice, but never to this extent. At least, in those other times, had the _option _of going out and socializing.

Now there was nothing.

Seeing as how he didn't even have a window to stare out of, Butters then trudges over to his bed in the corner, and curls up under the thin sheet - letting unfallen tears from his earlier emotional break-down run freely down his cheeks before his unsettled mind finally wandered off into the hazy world of sleep.

-_Meanwhile_-

"Hey Kyle; I found Kenny roaming the halls again. I remembered you had an appointment with him today, and so I just figured I'd bring him here to you."

"Thank you very much, Stan. I was wondering where he went off to" Kyle says; a wide smile coming onto his pale face. He then stands before saying, "Kenny, just take a seat in the chair next to mine, and I'll be right back. I just need to have a quick chat with Stan here in the hall, and then we'll start our session."

The blonde quietly obliged, and the two males left for the hallway.

"Something wrong Kyle?" Stan questions as the redhead shuts the door to his office.

"No, no, everything's fine.' Kyle reassures. "It's just…..well, I wanted to know what you thought of the new patient, Butters. Did he seem….off to you?"

"...to be honest, no. He actually seemed fairly normal."

"So it wasn't just me." Kyle says; sounding a bit relieved. "Good. For a minute there, I was a bit worried I'd be the only one who saw it."

"Saw what?"

"The fact that there's seemingly nothing wrong with him."

Stan raises an eyebrow in question. "What are you getting at, Kyle?"

The redhead then stays quiet for a few minutes before finally responding, "I hate to admit it, but...I have a strong feeling like there could have been huge a mix-up of some sort. I may not know a lot of things, but something about this doesn't sit right with me. Of course, none of my suspicions can be confirmed till the police fax over Butters more detailed chart, but until then, I'm keeping a very close eye on him. Oh, and...would you mind telling me if you notice anything different or out of the ordinary in Butters' behavior?"

"Of course, dude. Just… promise me you won't do anything that'll get you into too much trouble, okay?"

"Well, seeing as how I look for trouble daily, that'll be pretty difficult. But for you, I'll try."

The sarcastic comment was then followed by two giving each other small, slightly teasing smiles before going their separate ways; Stan heading back to see if Kevin had any trouble taking Butters to his room and Kyle going into his office for his session with Kenny.


	2. Group Therapy: Session 1

Darkness.

It was the first thing Butters saw when his eyes opened that next morning.

In all honesty, the lack of windows in his room was already beginning to affect him. Not only was it messing with his bodies natural sleeping schedule, but his very sense of time was also starting to crack and crumble.

Butters momentarily thought about telling someone of this...but he was sure it wouldn't really matter considering his position here.

The blonde's eye then slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, and soon, the grey walls of his room were visible to him once more. He then sat there for what seemed like hours, gazing aimlessly at the ceiling like he had last night till he eventually fell asleep, until the sound of his door being unlocked caught his attention.

"Good morning Butters." Stan greets as he swings the door to the blondes room open. Butters then notices a tray of scrambled eggs with a side of toast and orange juice in the others hands, and a sudden rumble from his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten much of anything yesterday.

"Is….is that for me?"

"Of course." Stan reassures. "We serve all our patients here three square meals a day, and no one is of exception." The raven haired male then hands the tray over to Butters before continuing, "Now, eat your breakfast, and later I'll come back to get you for your one-on-one therapy session."

The blonde then gives a simple nod as a reply, and without another word, Stan leaves.

Soon after he left, Butters then turned his attention to the food on his tray, and another growl from his stomach encouraged him to dig in. He then grabbed the plastic spork set on the side of the tray, and wasted no time devouring the eggs. The blonde then periodically begins eating his toast as well as sipping his juice, and in just a short while, he had finished the last of his breakfast off.

He admitted it wasn't the _best _meal he'd ever had, but a part of his was just happy they still fed him despite what he had - supposedly - done.

Butters then sits silently on his bed, occasionally fiddling with the tray or other item on it out of boredom, and in what seemed like maybe thirty minutes (although, the blonde had always been a slow eater, so he knew more time had to have passed than that) Stan was unlocking his room door once more.

"Okay, it's time for your one-on-one therapy session." Stan states. "Just leave your tray from breakfast here, and the people who have to search you room for contraband will take care of it."

The blonde feels a bit off knowing people will search the room he was currently staying in while he was away, but figured it was just one of the many guidelines of being in a mental institution, so he obligated without complaint.

The two then made their way down the halls to where the shorter had gone to talk to Kyle the other day, and before the blonde could say anything, Stan speaks up.

"This is where you'll be going to your one-on-one therapy sessions from now on.' Stan explains. "The doctor is waiting for you inside."

Butters couldn't help but get slightly confused at this, but goes inside nonetheless. Inside, the room was just the same as yesterday, but only this time, a female with dark black hair around Stan's age was sitting in the spot Kyle had the day previous.

"Hello Butters." The women says as she gives the blonde a warm smile. "I'm Doctor Pattie Nelson - the one on one patient therapist here. Please, come have a seat, and we can get todays session started."

The blonde wasted no time obligating, and once he was seated, spoke up.

"Um, Miss…. I guess I'm a bit confused. Isn't this Kyle's office?" Butters asks. "I-I mean, this is the room I talked to him in the other day."

"Oh, that's only because this room is devoted solely for one-on-one sessions with patients." Pattie explains. "So I guess you can see me and Kyle do share this room, but mostly, he presides over group therapy."

"Oh...okay then. Thanks."

"Anytime. Now, let's begin, shall we?"

Pattie then readies the pen in her hand, and for the next hour, asks Butters questions like Kyle had the day previous. Of course, the things she asked weren't like the things the redhead had questioned him on. No, these questions were covering more broad topics. LIke, "How are you feeling?" and, "Have you had any outbursts of violence recently?".

It was admittedly a bit tedious, but the blonde figured it was better than him having another emotional breakdown.

"Alright Butters, that just about wraps up this session for today." Pattie stares; clicking her pen so the point was no longer out. "As of now, I don't see any reason to start putting you on any medication, but I do want to see you everyday for at least two weeks to make sure that this does not change."

"Okay." Butters mumbles out. "Thank you, ma'am."

Pattie just smiles, and gives a quick, "No problem." in response. The blonde then stands, and heads toward the exit without another word.

"Hey." Stan casually says as Butters steps into the hall. The taller then crosses over, and takes Butters lightly by the arm. The dark-haired male then begins to walk down the hall, and shortly after, talks once more. "So, how was your one-on-one therapy session? Did Pattie prescribe you any medication?"

"It was fine, and...no." Butters answers. "She actually said she didn't think I needed it."

"Really?" Stan asks; his tone giving off slight surprise. Butters then confirms with a nod, and the other gives a slight hum. "Interesting."

The blonde couldn't help but note a certain tone in Stan's voice when he says this, but before he could call the raven-haired man on it, they arrived back at Butters room. The taller then unlocks it, and looks to the other.

"Here we are." Stan states. "I'll be bringing you by dinner later, and a bit after, I will be taking you to your first group therapy session."

"Yes sir."

The shorter then heads into the room, and heads right for the bed - which he noted no longer had the plate from breakfast on it. He then sat down on the edge of the mattress just a few minutes after Stan had closed the door, and as he begun the endless seeming waiting, he couldn't help but wonder if the raven haired guard's tone meant anything significant, or if it was just a coincidence.

He admitted it was a silly thing to occupy his mind with...but when you spend of your day in a dark, locked room with nothing but a bed in it; any distraction is welcome.

"Hey Butters. It's time to go to group."

The blonde then gives a small nod before getting off his bed, and walking over the door. Once there, the two then head through the halls towards the therapy room Butters had visited the past times he'd been down there, but turn the opposite way at the hall - putting them in front of a different oak door.

"This is the group therapy room." Stan explains. "You'll be spending two hours here every other day, and after, be brought directly back to your room. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The blonde then silently heads over to the oak door, and with a slight turn of the knob, heads through the white doorway.

Once inside, he saw that the room was substantially bigger than any he'd been in

since arriving at the asylum. It's walls were a forest green color, which surprisingly gave the room a soothing vibe to it, and was accented with a brown carpet. In the middle of said room, chair had been put into a U shape with one at the center of it - Butters presumed that where Kyle would be sitting during this session - and in the very corner, a desk with only a few pictures and a book on it was stowed away in the corner.

Butters had to admit; it was refreshing to see such a cheery room in a sea of of nothing but harsh whites and depressing greys.

"Ah, Butters, there you are." Kyle says with a small smile once he noticed the blonde entering the doorway. "I was wondering when you'd be brought here. Please, take any of the empty seats, and relax. We're still waiting on one more person, so it'll be just a few more minutes before we can start."

The blonde nods in understanding, and looks more in-detail at the selection of vacant chairs to choose from.

The first one he saw was a seat at the end in between a girl with silver-dyed hair along with almost translucent-pale skin and a boy with jet-black hair with a patch of fading red hair-dye in the middle of it, and the second was a seat in-between this boy with tangled blonde hair and Kenny; the boy who had stared at him in the hall the other day.

It took a few minutes, but Butters decided to sit next to the unidentified blonde and Kenny; since those two looked much less intimidating.

"Um…i-it's okay I sit here, right?" Butters asked the boy to his left a bit awkwardly; not wanting to get on the bad side of his fellow patients on his mere second day.

"Y-Yeah...it's fine." The boy with the tangled mess of blonde hair says with a stutter. He then seems to tilt his head a bit before asking, "So, y-you're the new guy that just got here yesterday, r-right?"

"Yep, that's me." The blonde simply replied; sort of getting used to being known as "the new guy" around the asylum. He then pauses slightly before polite extending his hand toward the other. "My name's Butters."

The other looked at the extend hand for several moments before hesitantly reaching out for it. "I-I'm Tweek. I-It's nice to meet you, Butters."

The taller of the two smiles, and feels a bit of relief that at least one person in the room seemed to be friendly. Before anything else is said, Butters hears something that derails his train of thought.

"Hi Butters."

The small, whisper-like voice went almost unnoticed by him.

The blonde then looks around, but sees no one looking in his direction. That is, of course, excluding when he suddenly noticed Kenny's eyes transfixed on him. Butters momentarily wondered if he could have been the one that had spoken to him earlier, staring back into the others piercing sea-blue eyes, but after several minutes pass in silence, he dismisses it before looking forward once more.

Butters swore he heard a soft, sad sigh when he did this, but figured it was simply his mind playing tricks on him again.

"Ah, Bradley, welcome." Kyle suddenly speaks up; earning Butters attention. "It's nice to have you here with us today."

The blonde then looked behind in curiosity, and at the door he had entered from earlier was a boy about his age with a head of curly, dirty-blonde hair. Like most of the other patients here, Butters noticed that he had dark circles around his eyes - whether it was from lack of sleep or due to something completely unrelated was still a mystery to the blonde.

"Please, take that open seat over there, and we can begin." Kyle says before taking a seat in the chair that was the center of the U shape.

The dirty blonde did as he was told, and the whole time, his gaze was settled to the floor.

Butters briefly wondered if he was okay, but didn't have too long to think about it before the redheaded psychiatrist began talking again.

"Okay, now what we're all here, I'm going to need someone to start off group today, and share why they're here." Kyle explains; readying the pen in his hand to start writing on the clipboard he'd settled on his lap. "I figured, since we have a new face joining our group today; it'd be appropriate to begin with a little background on each other. That being said, would anyone like to share their story first?"

Kyle's words were met with minutes of silence, but eventually, the girl's pale hand on the end went into the air.

"Thank you for volunteering, Bloodrayne." Kyle says with a small smile. "Please, begin whenever you're ready."

"It's no problem." Bloodrayne reassures with a smile. "And I was sent here because my friend and family think I have some sort of delusion that I'm a vampire, when really, they're just the ones who refuse to believe the truth." She then pause for a few minutes before speaking once more. "As for when it all started, I guess that have to be about two years back; when I was still human. It was back when me and all my friends started getting into all the vampire-related shows on TV, and I just remember _really _wanting to become one…"

"_You sure you don't wanna come with us to the mall, Bloodrayne?"_

"_Yeah, I'm sure, Larry." Bloodrayne reassures her friend on the other line as she begins to file down her thumbnail. "I'm just comfortable staying in today, and watching the "Buffy" marathon they're running on TV for Halloween. I'll join you guys the next time, though." _

"'_Kay then." Larry simply replies. "Have fun."_

"_I will." The silver haired girl says. "See ya tomorrow"_

"_See ya."_

_The two then hung up, and Bloodrayne turned all her attention to the images playing on the TV. While they played, a longing rose up inside her. A dark, twisted desire to become one of the blood-sucking immortals like she saw on TV. Not to hurt anyone, mind you, but just to be dark and mysterious like the creatures were; to feel moderately interesting for once._

_Of course, she knew it was a totally unrealistic dream._

_With a heavy sigh, Bloodrayne then went on with filing her nails to an acceptable smoothness - keeping her attention on the TV as she did so with a certain adoring fondness one might expect from a young child._

_Although...as she continued to do this; her subconscious took hold._

_Without even realizing it, she lifted the file to her mouth, and began shaping two of her front-teeth into fine-tipped fangs; not even wincing once during the process._

_It wasn't even till hours later, just after dinner to be precise, when she had accidentally bit down on her lip and saw a slight blood trail coming from it that she even drew any attention to her mouth. When she saw her handy work, a certain sense of confusion hit her, but soon after, a strong euphoric happiness took it's place._

_After all, this had been what she dreamed of for years. Who wouldn't have been happy?_

_Without another minute of hesitation, the silver haired girl licked up the remaining blood on her lip before taking off into the night to celebrate her newfound immortality._

"And ever since then, I've been a vampire." Bloodrayne concludes. "I'm still not entirely certain sure how I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror or how blood still came from my lip, but I've concluded it to just my body adjusting to turning from human to vampire."

"Yes, but Bloodrayne, have you ever thought of the possibility that maybe you were the one to have sharpened your own teeth into those points without realizing it?" Kyle politely interjects. "After all, you did say you had a nail file in your hand.

Bloodrayne took a long pause, as if considering this notion, before speaking again. "I had thought of this at one point, but no, I'm positive that couldn't have been how it happened."

"Of course. Sorry for interrupting; please, feel free to continue."

Bloodrayne gives a slight nod before pausing a moment before continuing, "To be honest, there's not much left of my story to be told after that. After I discovered I was immortal, I embraced my new lifestyle right away. I slept all through the days, prowled in moonlight, and refused to eat or drink any human substances. Sadly...I couldn't seem to bring myself to actually drain a living thing of it's blood, and slowly, the lack of feeding began to take it's toll on my body - immortal or not. That's when my friends and family started getting concerned..."

"_Bloodrayne, please, listen to me! You need to go get help! You're gonna wither away to nothing if you don't!"_

"_I've told you...I-I don't…need help..." Bloodrayne weakly explains to Larry._

_The brown-haired boy frowns at this, and gives a sad huff in reply. It had been a few weeks since his friend started acting like this, a "real" vampire, and she's been on a downward spiral ever since. Her refusal to eat even the tiniest morsel of food had caused her to drop weight at an alarming weight, so much so that her ribs had actually began to start showing through the skin on her sides, and the lack of any water was only causing her delusions to increase ten-fold._

_Needless to say; she wouldn't be able to continue this lifestyle for much longer._

"_Hailey, please...you need to stop this." Larry begs; using Bloodrayne's real name to get across how serious this situation truly was. "You're parents are really getting worried about you, you know. The teachers at school are worried about you, our friends are worried about you, I'm worried about you! If not for yourself, then for the love of god, please get help for all the people that care and love for you!"_

"_L-Larry….I-I'm a Vampire now….this is n-natural since I haven't drank any…...any…." _

_The silver-haired girl's stuttering explanation suddenly begins to trail off, and without warning, the room is sent into a strong spin. A strong surge of searing white flooded Bloodrayne's vision, and after, her world is plunged into darkness as she faints._

_The next time she'd open her eyes; Bloodrayne would find herself in a hospital bed with multiple IV's injected into her._

"Shortly after that, the doctors ran some tests to see if I was stable, and long story short, I ended up being sent here to treat my 'delusions' of vampirism." Bloodrayne concludes with a scoff. "I guess people just don't want to accept truth."

Butters, who had been listening intently to the other story, was in a bit of shock.

There before him, a person that was around his own age, was completely convinced something false was true. The concept itself didn't get him worried, but…it got his thinking.

What if _that's _what was going on with _him_?

What if he really _had_killed his mom, and his brain was protecting him from a reality he didn't, want to, or possibly even _couldn't_, face? That this sense of innocence was just a figment of his imagination? The mind was a complex, strange thing, and if it wanted to, the blonde figured, it could even do something as inconceivable as blocking out the memories of someone murdering their own mother.

Butters felt anxiety spike within him at the thought, but snaps himself out of it when he hears Kyle speaking.

"Alright, thank you for sharing Bloodrayne." Kyle says before giving his signature polite smile. He then turns his gaze to the rest of the group before continuing. "Now, would anyone else like to share today?" The redhead then waited in silence for several minutes, looking to each of the patients in hopes at least one more person would volunteer, but then sighs once he sees no results. "Very well. Since I don't force people to speak in group, you all have the remaining two hours of this session to have free time while I go do some filing. I'll check back in with you all in an hour to see if anyone wants to share, but in the meantime, remember that there are guards right outside. So don't do anything I wouldn't."

With that, Kyle leaves through the nearby door, and everyone breaks off.

Bloodrayne and the black-haired boy next to her go off to a dimly lit corner before talking quietly to each other, the dirty-blonde that had came in late slinks over to the nearby window before taking a seat on the ledge, and the remaining three just seemed to stay in their seats.

Butters then suddenly felt like he should at least try to socialize, he _was _going to be here with these people for awhile after all, so why not try to get on some of their good sides?

"So...that was interesting." Butters says; turning to Kenny with a polite smile. "Bloodrayne's story, I mean. Hehe, I know it sounds silly, but I was wondering if she should actually suck people's blood with those fangs of hers. What do you think?"

The blue-eyed blonde just stared at the other, much like how he had yesterday when they had met, and after a minute of silence, stands. He then walks off to nearby corner, and leans against it before letting himself slowly slide down the floor. Meanwhile, the blonde watches the other, and can't help but feel a bit anxious. Sure, from what little he knew about Kenny, this behavior was normal, but...he couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, in some way, he had said something that rubbed Kenny the wrong way.

He decided to ask Tweek to get a clearer answer.

"Was it...was it something I said?" Butters meekly asks. "Did I offend him?"

"Who? K-Ken?" Tweek asks; looking up from the fixed spot he'd been staring at on the floor. "No, no, you're fine. H-He's always like that."

"Oh...okay. I figured as much, but I was just making sure." Butters then takes a short pause before asking, "Please don't think I'm being nosy by this, but...do you happen to know why? I-I'm just curious is all."

Tweek raises an eyebrow slightly at this, almost as if the concept of curiosity was somewhat foreign to him, and moves closer to the other before speaking. "Honestly...I-I did overhear Kyle talking about him to Stan one day when he was walking by my room. A-Apparently, he has this rare condition called Cotard Delusion, o-or something like that. It basically means he has himself c-convinced he had died, and is n-now a ghost roaming our world."

"So...that's why he doesn't talk to anyone? Because he thinks they can't see or hear him?" Butters asks; a sudden wave of sympathy washing over him for Kenny.

"Yeah." Tweek says. "W-Well, except for Kyle and Pattie w-who have him convinced their m-mediums or something, and that they can speak to ghosts. But he normally doesn't speak to them u-unless they're having a one-on-one session."

"How sad." Butters says in genuine concern. "Do you know what caused him to be like this?"

"T-That's actually one thing I don't know." Tweek admits. "I imagine the only ones who know Kenny's story are his family, Pattie, and Kyle."

"Oh...alright then. I'll just let it go." Butters says. The blonde then suddenly feels Kenny's chilling stare on him, so to distract himself, he changed the subject. "So Tweek….it seems you know a lot about what goes around here."

"O-Oh, yeah, I do." Tweek reassures with a prideful smile. "I-I usually just stay in the background anyway, so I happen to o-overhear a lot of conversations."

"Cool." Butters smile. He then took a short pause before asking, "Actually...if it's okay, would you mind telling about the others here? I-I just want to properly address everyone while I'm here is all. Don't wanna step on anyone's toes, ya know?"

"I understand. A-And sure, I can do that."

After Tweek's agreement was uttered, the messy-haired blonde went into explanation about the remaining people in the room he had no clue about.

The boy that was with Bloodrayne was named Pete, and was there to get treatment for Multiple Personality Disorder. Not much is known past that, but he does have three confirmed alternate personalities - A man in his late twenties named Michael, a woman in her mid-twenties named Henrietta, and a Twelve year old kid named Firkle - that can take over his consciousness at any time. Bradley, the boy who was still looking out the window, had actually been sent there on the same charges Butters had. Apparently, he had gone to some Christian Camp when he was ten after telling his parents he might be a homosexual, and eight long years later, finally snapped; gruesomely murdering everyone in the area - counselors, campers, and even two bystanders included.

Least to say, Butters was shocked at the news.

"He...he just killed _everyone_?"

"Yeah man, h-he's really dangerous when h-he's provoked." Tweek stutters out. "Usually h-he's kept in his cell like the others who aren't suited for group, b-but I guess Kyle finally okayed him for it this time. J-Just don't mention any type of religion around him, o-or he may be triggered."

"Don't need to tell me twice..." Butters mumbles. He then looks to the kid in sitting in the window, and his mind can't even process the fact blood was on his hands. His face alone just looked so...sad. Broken, even, like the world has just kept kicking him down his whole life.

Like with Kenny, he felt a certain sympathy for the other.

The blonde then mentally realized that, in a place like this, you could never judge a book by its cover. It was also shortly after that realization that it occurred to him that he'd yet to hear Tweek's tale, and with admitted hesitation, he spoke up.

"Hey Tweek...you never mentioned why you're here." Butters points out.

"H-Huh? Oh...I guess I haven't." Tweek says with a sheepish chuckle. The twitching blonde then took a moments pause before saying, "T-To be honest...I-I don't know why I'm here."

Butters nearly felt his heart stop. "You don't?"

"No." Tweek admits. "M-My parents just kinda sent me here after I told them about my b-boyfriend, Craig. I-I guess it was just to 'clear-up' my h-homosexuality, but beyond that, I'm totally at a loss for w-why I'm being kept here."

"That's awful." Butters says. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I _am _glad there's someone else who doesn't know why they're here. But...to be sent to a place like all because of the person you love is wrong. I'm sorry you're parents are _that_close minded."

"A-Aw, they're not so bad." Tweek reassures. "They come and v-visit me on visitation days every once in awhile, and send me care packages on occasion. P-Plus, they're also paying rent on my apartment while I-I'm here so I'll still have a place to live when I get out o-of here. They may be distant, but...I know they still love me." The other then takes a short pause before adding, "S-Speaking of families, a-are yours coming to visitation next week?"

"...my...my family?"

"Yeah, l-like your mom and dad and siblings." Tweek explains. "I-I just didn't know if they'll be visiting you s-so shortly after you arrived. I-If not, you can s-sit with me and Craig. I-I'm sure he won't mind the company."

Butters sit there in silence for several minutes.

It had never once crossed his mind that someone he knew would visit him while in the asylum. In all honesty, he had no knowledge of what happened to his father after he found out about his wife's tragic death, or if he even knew where his murdering son was. It was just one of those he just didn't want to think about, and as for the whole visitors issue; Butters was almost positive no one would bother coming to see scum like him.

Of course, he couldn't let Tweek know this. After all, he was still the new guy here, and didn't want to burn any bridges with anyone at least till his second month there.

"...no….I don't think anyone will be showing up to see me." Butters replies. "But...thanks for saying I can sit with you and Craig. He sounds like a great guy."

"Oh, h-he is." Tweek gushes; seeming to forget any previous conversation. "Craig's protective, but a-at the same time, a total sweet-heart. H-He actually told me that the first thing he's gonna do for me once I get out of here i-is treat me to a nice dinner a-at my favorite restaurant. I-It's one of the things I'm really looking forward to, a-actually."

Butters smiles at the others gushing, but begins spacing out as the other continues.

It wasn't like he didn't _want_to listen to Tweek talk, but...he just had a lot of questions about his father on his mind. So much so that he found focusing on anything rather difficult, and wound up missing over half of Tweek's spiel about Craig.

"Alright everyone, you're two hours for group therapy are over. Time to go back to your rooms."

The sound of Stan's voice seems to get everyone's attention, and without a seconds hesitation, every patient in the room stood up and headed toward the door where he and Kevin were waiting. Of course, Butters couldn't help but notice that the only ones who needed to be escorted back to their rooms were himself and Bradley. He thought it was most likely because of the fact they were there on court orders, but he wouldn't waste time asking such an obviously-answered question.

The shorter guard then takes Bradley's arm, and after a few minutes of leaving for the others room, Stan does the same.

"So, how was your first group therapy?" Stan casually asks as he leads Butters through the halls.

"It was good, I suppose." Butters answers softly. "Only one person spoke about why they were here, though. But that's okay. Kyle was actually nice enough to give us the rest of the two hours for free time after it. It let me bond with a fellow patient here - that blonde guy named Tweek. He seems really nice."

"Sounds cool." Stan says; getting a small smile. "And yeah, Kyle's always doing things like that. I personally think that's why so many patients like him"

Butters couldn't help but note the fondness in Stan's tone when he spoke about the redheaded doctor, but before he could call him on it, they turned the corner into the red-squared hallway and, on the other side, saw a security guard. However...this person wasn't Kevin.

If anything, he was the exact opposite.

He was clearly taller than the other, and had a brown head of hair that nearly matched his eyes. The uniform which he wore clung tightly to his plump frame, and the roundness of the others face seemed almost comically exaggerated due to his collared shirt being a few sizes too small for him.

"Hey Eric." Stan greets the man casually. "This is our newest patient, Leopold Butters Stotch. Butters, this is one of the night-shift security guards; Eric Cartman. He'll be one of the ones watching over you guys when me and Kevin go off-duty."

"I see." Butters says softly. He then turns his gaze to Eric before giving a short and arguably bland, "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

Eric, who seemed almost seemed in a state of surprise, snaps himself out of it before giving an impersonal seeming, "Likewise."

The larger male then hurries past, the look in his eyes hinting some sort of underlining distress, and accidentally bumps into the blondes shoulder as he did so. Butters then felt a strange sensation of déjà vu come over him, and...something in the back of his mind whispered that this wasn't new to him.

Like...he knew the other, and had gotten bumped into by him before.

"Huh...strange." Stan comments. "Eric's never been in that much of a hurry before. I guess he finally is doing that paperwork he was assigned three weeks ago." The taller the realizes he had gotten side-tracked, and quickly continues walking Butters back to his room. "Sorry about that. I have a tendency to distract myself with talking. Bad trait for a guard to have, I know, but I try not to do it that often."

"It's fine." The blonde mumbles; getting caught up in thought.

The two soon reach Butters' room, and Stan ushers him in before closing the door behind him. Of course, the shorter hardly seemed to notice. He was too busy focusing all his energy into trying to remember where he knew the other from, and even as he settled down in his bed for the evening, he didn't give up his task.

He _knew_he had the answer...but the memory containing it was just out of his grasp.

Eventually, Butters felt his eyes grow heavy, and soon after, he finally gave into the call of sleep - his last minutes of consciousness being spent still trying to remember where on gods green earth he knew Eric from.

_~Meanwhile~_

"This is _horrible_!"

The yelled words seemed to echo off the walls of the empty room as Eric continued to pace back and forth on the white tiles.

"How could they send him _here_!?" Eric roars out. "Out of _all _the places in _all _the _freaking world_, they had to send him _here_?!" The chubby security guard then pauses a moment before continuing his paranoid rant. "What if he gets his memory back?! What if he remembers what _really_happened to him?! I'd be _fucked_! Not to mention I'd lose _everything _I worked for!"

The brunette then keeps up his pacing back forth for several minutes; his thoughts racing more and more with each step he takes.

It was then that he remembered just how clueless Butters looked when he saw him in the hallway, despite the slight strain to recognize him in his eyes, and the knowledge was enough to get his furious pacing to slowly come to a stop as he thought.

"Maybe...I'm overthinking this". Eric muses; gladly following the direction on his newly rolling train of thought. "I mean...he doesn't _seem _to remember anything that happened. If I just keep him in line, and make sure nothing jogs his memory, there isn't going to be any problems. And...if he _does_start to remember, he can't do anything to me, because _he_was the one convicted by the court! I'd be his word against mine! I'm practically untouchable!"

Calmed by this notion, Eric then smirk at how unexpectedly well things had unfolded before him, and heads over the nearby desk before taking a seat - idly thumbing through some paperwork that should have been completed weeks ago out of boredom.

Of course...what Eric didn't realize was that, from the hall, a certain sea-blue eye'd blonde was just outside the door; listening quietly to every word the other spoke with silent intent.


	3. Visitation Day - 1: Tweek's Trouble

Days seemed to blend in to Butters after his first few days at the institution.

Without a proper way to tell time, mere seconds could seem like hours, and an hour could seem like a century. At first, the blonde was a bit uneased by this lacking sense of time, but as time went on, he was actually getting used to it.

The blonde guess that was just a side effect of the incarceration.

However, despite this loss of time, there was one thing that helped Butters keep partly keep track of the passing days.

It was his daily schedule.

Believe it or not, the rotation of certain activities game him a very thin, but still existing, awareness of the days. On even days - aka: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday - he'd be sent to talk to Pattie in the mornings before being taken to group therapy in the evening after dinner in his room. As for odd days - aka: Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday - the only time he was out of his room was when he was escorted to his daily therapy session. It wasn't the most...exciting or compelling schedule to be on, but it at least gave him a clear perspective of what day it was.

However, on this particular day, when his schedule only consisted of a therapy session, he suddenly found Stan taking him somewhere in the asylum he hadn't been before.

"So...where are we going?" Butters asks after a moment of traveling in silence.

"The gym." Stan replies without missing a beat. Guessing the blonde would be confused by the statement, which he was, the taller of the two soon continued; "Well...I guess you can't qualify it as a gym. It's more of a room that's situated in the back of the asylum. It's primary use is to give patients here the critical exercise they need. I mean, people just can't stay inactive all day. They need a chance to get up, and stretch their legs., ya know?"

The blonde stays silent for a moment before saying, "Yeah...I-I guess that makes sense."

The raven haired officer then nods, and after a moment of walking, stops Butters at this previously unseen door. With just a twist of the knob, he then swings the door open, and inside; a whole workout area is laid out before the two.

"Alright, this is it." Stan announces. "You have two hours to do as you please, but keep in mind that I will still be keeping watch."

Without another word, the taller then walks over to a corner of the room so as to keep an eye on everyone in said area, and Butters takes the opportunity to really get a good look at the things around the room. All around, there were random pieces of exercise equipment (such as a few weight sets, a treadmill, and ect.), and as for the fellow patients in the room, there were only three: A pale skinned boy with black hair and same-colored unibrow was at one of the weight-lifting stations, a tanned-skinned boy with short brown hair was spotting him, and Bradley was off by himself on a treadmill.

The blonde instantly decides to go over with Bradley.

"Hi Bradley." The blonde greets kindly as he walks over to the dirty-blonde.

The other gave the blonde an almost unsure look, as if contemplating whether or not he should even be associating with the blonde, before whispering out a reply. "Hey….you're name's Butters….right?"

"Yeah." Butters says as his smile grows slightly. "We were in group therapy together."

"Oh….alright."

A few moments then pass in silence, and as the awkwardness keeps getting thicker, the blonde decided to try and make conversation.

"So….I-I can't help but notice one of the barbell stations is open." Butters observes with a shy grin. "If you wanted, I could spot while you lifted. Or the other way around is fine too."

The dirty-blonde stays quiet for a moment, but the shakes his head before saying, "No thanks….I really would rather work out alone." The short of the two swore he saw a blush arise on the others cheeks when he says this, but before he could even point it out, Badley quickly heads off to the other side of the room.

The blonde stands there in confusion for a moment, but once he process what had happened, decides to just head for a treadmill.

Of course...before he even made two steps toward the exercise machine; he finds that the two whom he had seen in the "gym" when he entered looming over him; each with intimidating smirks upon their faces.

"...oh..u-uh….hello." Butters greets politely; trying not to give away how startled he really was.

"Hi." The paled-skinned boy speaks up. "I'm Damien, and this is Christophe." The other then pauses for a second as his devilish smirk grows wider, and continues. "So, we happened to see you talking with Bradley, and neither of us seem to remember your face. You wouldn't happen to be the new guy that got here last week, would you?"

"Um...y-yes sir, I am." Butters stutters out. "W-Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reazon." Christophe says as he gets a smirk of his own. He then strolls over to the blonde before suddenly throwing an arm around his shoulder, and speaking once more. "Now, zince you're 'ere with uz; that meanz you muzt 'ave done zomething pretty bad."

"That's right." Damien adds as he moves to Butters side opposite of where Christophe was. "Why don't you tell us what it was."

"Huh? Tell you?" Butters asks in slight disbelief. The blondes gaze then falls to the floor, actually still very uncomfortable talking about what had gotten him there. "...honestly….I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright…."

The two then suddenly give a unnerving dark chuckle, and the others grip on Butters tightened.

"You don't get eet, do you?" Christophe asks as his malevolent smirk grows wider. He then leans his head closer, and speaks to the blonde in a lower voice; most likely to not draw attention to himself. "We're not geeveeng you a choice. You zee, we don't like azzociating wiz new guys. Ziz plaz eez beeg enough wizout zome new little pruzzy coming along, and crowding up the joint."

"Exactly." Damien adds in the same low voice as Christophe. "Now, either give us a good reaosn to let you live, or I'm afraid you'll find breathing to be quit the tasking job."

The paled skin boy then gives a slight nod to the other, and instantly, the others arm tightens even more. The blonde was now in a full choke-hold, and just as Damien had warned, he found breathing was becoming increasingly harder and harder; his pitiful attempts at trying to squirm free proving to be utterly useless. Butters then briefly wondered why Stan wasn't stepping in by this point, but then it occurred to him that they had their backs turned to him, so from his perspective, it must've just looked they were just talking.

Desperate to get free, Butters then decides that two more people know his darkest secret was a small price to pay for his life.

"I….I'm in here for…..for murder, okay?" Butters chokes out.

The answer must have satisfied the other, because the blonde suddenly felt Christophe's arm loosening from around his neck, and he wasted no time taking in as much sweet oxygen as he could.

"Murder, huh?" Christophe questions as he raises an eyebrow in suspicion. "You don't seem like the murdering type."

Butters gulps deeply at this before saying, "...w-well….I-I did. I…..I murder someone who was close to me…...g-got caught…..a-and….now I'm here."

The pale-skinned male then stares at the other for a moment, but eventually, his lips return to a smirk. He then gestures for Christophe to let him go, and once the other does, Damien suddenly gives him a hearty slap on the back.

"You know...you're alright, newbie." Damien observes as he gives the blonde yet another slap on the back. "You're loud and proud with your crime. Just don't cross us, and there'll be no problems." The shorter of the two then turns to the tanned male before saying, "Come on Christophe. Let's get back to the weights."

The brunet then nods before obediently following the other, and once they were out of earshot, Butters gives a sigh of relief.

For a moment, he was almost certain he was going to die. The feel of the others constricting arm still lingered on his neck...but the sense of just knowing he survived the onslaught was enough to override the slight pain on his throat. Although, it still did nothing for the overwhelming fear that gripped his entire being.

Of course, one thing was for sure...he'd now be horrified of the two, and would make sure to keep enough distance between him and them from now on.

~Later that Day~

"And here we are." Stan announces as he leads Butters though double oak doors. This is the asylum cafeteria, and it's where you'll not only be reporting to for visitation, but it's also where you'll be eating your meals from now on."

Butters then nods in understanding, and scans the area.

Surprisingly, the layout of the room was like an ordinary school cafeteria. There were multiple round tables placed strategically throughout the room, and even some booths were set along the sides of the rooms. As for the people in said room, Butters noted that everyone from his previous group therapy session was there; Bradley with an older male and female (which, presumably, were his parents), Pete with a raven haired man with a patch of green-dyed haired in the back, Bloodrayne with a brown haired man with his haired tied up in a ponytail, and Kenny who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. A slight sense of worry washed over him when he didn't seem to catch sight of Tweek, but eventually, he saw the crazy-haired blonde waving him over from a table in the back of the room.

Butters smiles happily before quickly crossing the room to where the other was.

"Hey Tweek." Butters greets politely as he sits in the vacant seat next to the twitchy blonde. He then notices the lack of visitors at Tweek's table, so he asks; "Is Craig here yet?"

"Not yet, but he should be soon."

The blonde nods in understanding, and then scans the room to process more about the people surrounding him. All around, patients were chatting happily with their visitors, and a suddenly loneliness crept up on him. Maybe it was the realization that he'd never be able to talk to his mother (as well as his father, since he didn't even know if the other even knew where his son was) ever again that triggered his sadness, or it was possibly the thought that, even if any of his family or friends knew where he was, they'd refuse to see him due to the grisly nature of his crime…

Regardless, he had get his mind off the subject.

"So...a-are the people visiting here today related to the patients?"

Tweek paused for a moment, as if assessing the question, before responding; "No. Bradley's with his parents, but they're the only relatives here today. Parents and other family members don't visit here as often as you'd think."

"I see." Butters says; a slight relief coming over him. "In that case...do you know the relationship of the people visiting?"

"Of course." Tweek replies with pride in his tone. He then looks over to where the others were seated, and soon after, begins whispering to Butters. "Okay, so the boy chatting with Bloodrayne is her boyfriend Larry; that guy from her story last week during Group Therapy. He used to actually come every visitation day, but lately it's been every other visitation day. No clue why though. Oh, and as for the guy with Pete, his name's Mike. Apparently they'd been dating for awhile before developed his condition, and from what I gather, are still planning to be together after this. Mike actually comes to visit Pete every chance he gets, so they might have a shot at making their relationship last."

"Aw...that's sweet." Butters says genuinely happy for the two. It then occurred to the blonde that the two males he'd met earlier in the gym were absent from the event, and an urgent sense to know exactly where they were compelled him to comment on it. "S-Say...where are Damien and Christophe at? Don't they have anyone visiting them?"

The mere mention of the two's names causes Tweek's eyebrow to raise judgmentally.

"You mean those_criminals_on constant lockdown in their cells?" The blonde questions with the upmost distain in his voice. "No, they usually don't have visitors. I'm not even sure if they _have _visitation rights; given how violent and dangerous they can be. Of course, they usually just associate with others who've been sent here on criminal charges, so it's pretty easy to avoid them."

Butters silently let the others words soak in.

Earlier in the gym, when he had encountered the two, he had remembered their hostility toward him. Then, when he was forced to tell them the charges that lead him here...they instantly seemed...friendlier toward him.

Well...as friendly as convicted criminals in a mental institution can be, anyway.

When it happened, the experience meant nothing to Butters, but now….he began to ponder. Did...the two see him as one of them for what he had done? Was he, in their eyes….a criminal? If so, why? He certainly didn't _look_like a criminal, and didn't remember committing the crime he was accused of, but...he _had _confessed to the crime to save his skin. But...what if that wasn't the only reason? Was it possible that this sense of innocence just a delusion his mind conjured up? What if the memories of what he had done were merely hiding from his consciousness only to attack him in the darkest void of his nightmares?

What if...he actually _was_a criminal?

The notion made Butters go into a bit of deep thinking, considering every possibility his brain could fathom, but was pulled out when Tweek suddenly began to wildly tug and pull on his shirt sleeve.

"Oh my gosh, Butter's, he's here." Tweek whispers excitedly.

The blonde knew the other had to be referring to his infamous lover; Craig.

Butters then turns his attention to the direction of the entrance, and expects to see someone walking toward their table. All around, the same people as before were sitting and chatting in their respective areas, but...he saw no newcomers.

Butters couldn't help but feel confusion sweep over him.

"Tweek...am I missing something here?"

"No, you're fine." Tweek answers genuinely. Before anything else can be said, the messy-haired blonde then turns his attention to the empty seat catacorner from him, and a huge smile comes across his features. "Hello Craig! It's wonderful to see you again!" The shorter of the blondes then takes a short pause before continuing, "Oh, this is just Butters. He's new here, and I said it'd be okay if he sat with us. I hope you don't mind." Tweek then takes another pause before giving a slight giggle and saying, "I knew you wouldn't."

Meanwhile, the observing blonde had never been more confused in his life.

"...Tweek...what's going on?"

The shorter then turns his attention to the other before saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? Butters, this is my boyfriend, Craig."

The blonde blinks in surprise before asking slowly, "Your...boyfriend?"

"I know; hard to believe, right?" Tweek says with a gleeful grin. "I sometimes wonder how I was able to win the heart of such a great guy. Hehe. Oh, that reminds me; we haven't actually had a chance to see each other in awhile. Would you mind if we just catch up for a bit? We won't if it seems too rude." The blonde then stares at the other for a moment, assessing if he was serious or just playing a joke on him, and gives a nod once he determined that the other wasn't kidding around.

The crazy-haired blonde then happily goes back to 'talking' with Craig, and Butters simply watches him in slight fascination.

It was then that he realized...Tweek truely _did_have something wrong with him. His parents didn't ship him off to this asylum because they didn't want their son liking boys; they sent him there because he was in love with a illusion of his own subconscious.

The realization his Butters like a ton of bricks, but before he could even conceive of thinking of a proper reaction, Tweek speaks to him.

"Butters? Is something wrong?" The crazy-haired blonde asks.

"Huh?" Butters asks as he's pulled from his thoughts. "...um….no. Everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just...Craig's been asking you a question for five good minutes now, and you haven't answered him."

"...he has?"

"Yeah." Tweek then pauses before asking, "Wait...are you ignoring him? Did he say something that offended you somehow?"

Butters then quickly thinks on his feet for ways to avoid a possible confrontation in this situation before reassuring, "N-No, it's not either of those things! It's just….I-I guess I was too caught up in thought that...I didn't hear him?"

The blonde mentally slapped himself for making the end of his statement sound like a question, and Tweek simply stares at him for a few moments, as if processing something, and eventually speaking once more with a bit of a sour expression on his face.

"...let me guess; you don't see him."

"Huh? I wasn't going to say-"

" Do you?"

"Now Tweek, hold on, let me-"

"_Do you_?!"

"...I….I don't, Tweek." Butters says truthfully with a sad sigh; seeing no better alternative than just coming clean. "There's no one there."

"Yes there _is_!" The messy haired blonde snapped defensively. Butters was caught off guard by this, never having seen the other act this way before, and didn't even had time to form a reply before the other continued his rant. "I-I'm tired of everyone telling me Craig isn't t-there and that I'm insane, b-because I'm not! S-Someone who's that kind and sweet h-has to be real! I know he is!" The others voice cracked slightly near the end of his rant, and his hazel eyes actually began misting with tears.

Butters couldn't help but frown in sympathy for him. "Tweek...I-I'm so sorry to have upset you. I really am. But..I just don't see anyone there."

"I don't w-want your apology!" Tweek sniffles out; rubbing away some tears that had began to fall down his cheeks. "A-And you're just like t-the others! Y-You just want to make me think I've cracked up! I-It's despicable!"

The blonde felt overwhelming guilt at this, honestly not meaning to make the other cry or to make him think he was conspiring against him, but a sudden hand on his shoulder stopped him from making any attempts to console the other. Butters then looks up to find Stan (who most likely witnessed everything that had just happened) staring back at him.

"Butters...I think Tweek needs a little space right now." The taller s

ays in a gentle tone.

Butters doesn't even put up an argument.

The shorter stands, and lets Stan lead him away from a still slightly sobbing Tweek - barely being able to ignore the fact that everyone in the room now had their attention on them. Something inside him still felt terrible for making Tweek break down like he had, but...deep down, he knew there probably wasn't much he could have done to comfort him.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Butters asks once they're out of the messy blondes earshot.

The raven haired male takes a pause before answering, "Yeah, he will be. He usually gets like this when someone points out Craig isn't there."

"Was...was he a real person Tweek knew? Craig, I mean."

"I have no clue." Stan answers honestly. "I guess he could have been...but all I know is that it's who Tweek's obsessed over since he's been here." It was then that the guard stops, and the blonde notices that they had walked over to the table where Kenny had been sitting all alone. "Wait here with Kenny until visitation's over. I'm gonna go inform Pattie that Tweek had a small breakdown, and see if she can't talk him down a bit."

"Yes sir." Butters replies before plopping down in the vacant seat next to Kenny.

The raven haired male then hurries off to go get Pattie, leaving Kevin to keep an eye on things, and the blonde can't help but look back over to Tweek. The other now had his knees huddled up to his chest, and his head was resting in the empty space around the vacant chair next him him; almost as if he was leaning it against a person shoulder.

This only makes Butters feeling of guilt grow stronger.

What if he really scarred Tweek by what he did? What if the blonde was permanently damaged by this? What if...

"It's not your fault, Butters. You didn't know."

The familiar soft voice drew Butters from his thoughts.

He then looked around to see who was addressing him...but there was one around but Kenny. The others sea blue eyes had been looking in the others direction, but quickly looked away once he noticed Butters was actually staring back. Again, the blonde was unsure if it had been Kenny that had been talking, but this time, he decided to take a chance on the probability that it was.

"...Thank you." The blonde whispers.

The other kept staring blankly ahead, but the blonde swore as he did….a small smile spread across his tanned face.

Minutes then pass in silence, and suddenly, Pattie, followed by two nurses - one with long charcoal-black hair and the other with curly blonde hair - enter the room before calmly announcing visitation was over. The guest then gave one final goodbye before exiting the cafeteria, and as soon as the last person has exited, the three women walked up to a still fetal-positioned Tweek.

Butters tried not to listen in on what they were saying...but given the fact they were the only two talking, it was impossible not to.

"Hi Tweek." Pattie greets with a kind smile. "I heard you had a bit of a breakdown. Maybe Wendy and Bebe here could give you a little medication to help you calm down, and we could go to my office and talk about it?"

"N-No!" Tweek stutters out in protest. "T-The last time t-they gave me medicine, C-Craig didn't c-come visit me for t-two whole weeks!"

"Oh, I'm sure Craig 'll understand." Pattie calmly reassures. "I mean, you need medicine to get better, right?"

"T-That's not true!" Tweek counters frantically; his eyes beginning to water slightly. "C-Craig told me their t-type of medicines are bad, a-and gets too upset over it to visit me w-when they make me take them!" Sobs then briefly interrupt the crazy-haired blonde, but soon, he regains enough composure to continue his plea. "P-Please….don't m-make me take t-the medication….d-don't make C-Craig stay away from me…"

The raven-haired doctor gives a sympathetic sigh before saying, "I'm sorry Tweek...but it's for your own good." Pattie then turns to the two waiting nurses before giving instructions. "Give him about a half dosage of his usual antipsychotics. I want him to be calm, but not totally incapacitated. I still need figure out what happened."

The two ladies in white give an understanding nod, and move in on Tweek. It was then that Butters suddenly a hand place itself on his arm.

"Come on Butters, me and Stan are escorting patients back to their rooms for the day." Kevin says in a low, almost whispering voice. "Nobody needs to see something like this."

The blonde nods, and lets Kevin leads him back to his room; doing his best to block out the screams of Tweek's pleas. Of course...it'd prove useless, as he'd hear it far down the hall, and even faintly after the door had locked him into his room.

In fact...it'd be the thing that kept the blonde up all night; even hours after it had stopped.

"And that's what happened."

"Oh, poor Tweek." Kyle says in genuine concern. "Is he okay now though?"

"Yeah, he's talking with Pattie." Stan explains. "You know, for not getting that many emergency calls, she acted very well under pressure."

"That's a relief to hear." Kyle says. "I'm just sad I couldn't get here thirty minutes earlier and help out myself."

"Ah, don't beat yourself up about it." Stan reassures with a slightly dismissive wave of his hand. "Everything's fine now, and no one got hurt. That's the important thing." Kyle then gives a nod of agreement, and was about to add something else when the taller suddenly speaks once more. "Oh! I almost forgot! Those files you asked for on Butters finally came in."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Here."

The raven haired guard then produces a sealed, rectangular envelope from his jacket before handing it to the curly-haired redhead. Kyle eagerly takes it, and gives Stan a quant "Thank you!" before quickly opening the seal. He then slips out the contents of said envelope, and begins examining them; his face slowly going from curious to confused as he read.

"...is something wrong?" Stan asks; knowing that the look on Kyle's face meant that something didn't sit right with him.

"Yeah, it's just….some things here don't seem to add up." Kyle explains. "It may be nothing….but I better investigate just to make sure. I'd hate if I overlooked something seemingly insignificant, and it turn out to actually be important."

"Oh, alright then." Stan says while giving a slight shrug. "Just don't work too late, okay? You know you start to get a bit delusional when you don't get your eight hours."

"Don't worry, I won't." Kyle reassures with a smile.

The taller of the two can't help but smile back before giving the other a quick hug goodbye before both males headed their separate ways for the evening; both thinking about their upcoming plans for the evening.


	4. (Update on Chapters)

Hey everyone, and Happy New Years! :D

Okay, so I'm sure a _lot _of your who've been keeping up with this particular story of mine have noticed the vast gasps between chapter updates, and before I go into my explanation, I just want to offer a formal apology for it.

My second order of business is that I want to assure you all that I _am_ still writing this story. It's just that none of the chapters are prewritten like other stories of mine (namely _Dark Harvest_ and _Darkest Dawn_), and this means that I have to write out every chapter between updates; plus some time for breaks and such. Sadly, since I can't exactly be on the computer 24/7 coupled with my easy distraction, this means that said chapters take longer to get done and uploaded than they should. However, I do plan to keep it on a month-to-month basis as far as new chapters are concerned, but if I notice I'm lacking on updates, I'll also be adding little update chapters like this here and there.

Lastly, I want to give a quick thanks to those who've commented on this story so far, and promise that I'll have the next chapter up before next week rolls around.

Anyway, sorry if I got your hopes up with this update, and wish you all a happy and safe new years.


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